The Highwayman Comes Riding
by undertheguiseofme
Summary: “KILL ME CARLISLE!I beseech you,if our friendship means anything to you,you will kill me now.”The words tore from the broken man in front of me.I knew I couldn't save him.This is a short story gives you a peek at Carlisle in 1768.Based on the epic poem.
1. Reputation To Uphold

**_The poem song that inspired this story is linked in my profile._**

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**Our story finds us in a rundown inn outside of London. The year is 1768. The favored mode of transportation among the rich and elite was elegant carriages and coaches. Although these coaches allowed them to travel in style and comfort, they were also excellent markers of their wealth and standing for the highwaymen who awaited for them on the unguarded roads...**

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"Remind me why we are here again John?" I didn't have to raise my voice over the loud, drunken raucous behind us. John was one of my kind as well. He could have heard even the faintest of my whispers.

"It's all about fitting in, Carlisle. It's all about fitting in," he said as he looked around to make sure no one was watching as he poured the contents of his mug on the floor. No one would notice he had been pouring his ale out on this disgusting floor. He raised his empty mug at a passing barmaid to signal another round. "And besides, I have a reputation to uphold as the being the best man here who can keep his liquor."

I laughed at John as I leaned back in my chair. I'd come back to England just to see him and he hadn't disappointed me.

"Tell me Carlisle, you've been to the colonies. What do you think?" He flashed a large grin at the barmaid as she sat another mug down on our table.

"I think the people are growing weary of having no say in the government. It would be in King George's best interest to allow this instead of trying to cut off their threats of independence with more taxes." I eyed him and seeing no reaction continued. "If there is to be a war, I could see myself on their side. I've been talking to this man named Garrett who has some passionate ideas about Americas freedom and the country she could be."

John nodded his head in agreement."It's not _if _there will be a rebellion for these Americans, it's when. Make no mistake about that."

A metal mug came flying toward John and he reached up in the air and caught it and threw back in the direction it had come. He didn't throw it hard, but enough force was behind it so that it landed on the table it had come from and left a deep indention there. The men sitting at the table looked up at us, and seeing the mark on the table, lowered their heads again.

"Brilliant way to remain inconspicuous, John." I chided him, lifting my mug at him.

He slammed his own mug into mine, sloshing the thick, brown foamy ale over the sides. "I told ya, I have a reputation to uphold."

We talked for hours into the night. Slowly, the drunken mob of men began to amble out, making their way to wherever they were supposed to be. Most likely back to homes where wives were waiting to unleash hell upon them for yet another night of drunkenness. John had his eyes locked with a big burly man sitting across from us. They had slowly built up a drinking war between them, and John now had twenty-two empty mugs in front of him. The other man had just nineteen. He was swaying on his seat, but he showed no signs of backing down, ordering the barmaid to bring him one more mug. It was clear he was trying to best Johns mug count.

The harried barmaid slammed a new mug down for him, and he grabbed it with his huge fist and held it to his mouth and began to chug. A slight smile crept from John. I watched as the large mans swaying got more pronounced and giving John one final hard glance, his head fell forward and slammed into the table, shaking the mugs off into the floor.

"We can go now. My reputation remains in tact for another day." John got up out of his chair and strode toward the door. He flipped a coin to the barmaid and tipped his head to her. Her cheeks flushed red. I pulled my eyes off the passed out man who was now snoring loudly and followed John outside.

He placed his hat on his head as he turned to me. "So. Ready to meet her?"

.


	2. Bess

Our horses ambled on slowly through the darkness. The slow pace was tortuous. My horse neighed and rose up on its two back legs, trying to shake me off. It had been a battle the entire ride to keep the thing from bucking me and trying to run off into the woods. I made it skittish, as if it knew what I was.

"Tell me again old friend, why we can't run?" I asked, staring down at my unwilling horse. The creature was giving me such a hard time, I had thought about killing it, just to put both of us out of our misery.

"Aren't you the one who is always prattling off about blending in with the humans? Bess doesn't know what I am yet. It's best to keep up the charade just a bit longer." John said as he led his horse just in front of me. "Besides, we are almost there."

I looked ahead and through the trees, I could see lights. I sighed. It was about time, I couldn't stand much longer on this horse. And as if the horse agreed with me, it neighed and shook its head. We rode out of the dark and into a dimly light courtyard illuminated by two burning torches. The Toads Wallop inn was quiet this time of night, all occupants inside seemingly asleep. Bess helped her father run the inn and it made them a comfortable living for the times. It was a well kept up place, the outside appeared to have been freshly whitewashed. I got down off my beast of burden and it turned its head to me and stuck out its tongue. I was awestruck for a moment and then I stuck mine back out at it and got my saddle bag off it and slapped it on the rear. It ran off towards the woods, its hooves kicking up dirt in my face.

"Why did you do that for?" Johns concerned voice reached me as he got down off his own horse.

"I don't think it liked me much." I said, watching the horse disappear into the the woods.

"Don't be crazy, animals don't know that much to care about who is riding them." John bent down and picked up a small stone from the ground. He threw it lightly at an upstairs window and waited. When nothing happened, he picked up another stone and lobbed it, it hit the window a bit harder and this time we could see the faint cast of a candle moving closer to the window. The window opened and out leaned Bess.

Her pale skin glinted in the faint light, her dark black eyes searching out the darkness before she caught sight of us. Her black curly hair tumbled loose past her shoulders and out the window, softly blowing in the wind and I detected a light scent sweeping down from her that made the back of my throat burn. She had small, delicate features set in her pale oval face and underneath her eyes, purple shadows lingered. I was taken aback by her beauty and if I hadn't know otherwise by her delectable scent I would have guessed her to be a vampire. Her simple white nightgown strained against her large bosom as she leaned out, waving to us. A large smile upon her face.

John thrust the reigns to his horse roughly at me. "Hold this for a second." He scaled up a lattice of roses that clung to the wall and was in her window in no time at all.

I watched, embarrassingly as he pushed her back against her bedroom wall and kissed her, his hand moving through her hair before he trailed it over her neck and down her chest and then down where I could not see it anymore. I sighed and turned my head to give them some privacy. I could hear my horse nearby, crunching on some grass. It hadn't ran too far off.

"I'll be back tomorrow, my love. I promise. And then we will leave to be together. I promise you that." I heard him talking to her and I was further embarrassed to have been cursed with a vampires keen hearing. This was a private moment and I couldn't help but overhear it.

I heard the rustle of leaves and old wood creaking. I turned around and I watched as John smoothly climbed back down the lattice. He was beaming.

"That, my dear friend, is Bess. The love of my life." He said as he turned to wave to her. "Isn't she beautiful? And her lips, dear God. I could spend forever kissing those lips."

I chuckled. "Well then, it's a good thing you just might have forever then, isn't it?" I patted him on the back.

"Oh Carlisle my friend, you need to find you a good woman. You've gone too long without one," he said as he mounted his horse. He held his hand out for me. "Come on, let's go to London. I've got some business affairs to carry out."

I shook my head at him, I had had enough of horses for one night. "I'll race you there." But I was already gone before the words even left my mouth, leaving behind a befuddled John. I blurred through the woods racing toward London, trying to get the way John had kissed Bess out of my mind.


	3. I'm After A Prize Tonight

I hated London. The stench of waste in the streets assaulting my senses, the overwhelming ugliness of the city, drab and gray, the over-crowded pulse of the city throbbing against your back. It was uncomfortable enough to be mired in the middle of throngs of humans pushing past you, the scent and heat of their blood radiating from them to stir up a hot burn in the back of my throat. I had been trying since I was changed to better control this burn. I didn't want to feed off these humans, I had made it my life's work to try to save them in any way I could in my training as a doctor, but the undeniable fact was that these humans _could_ be a food source for me. No matter how much I tried to control myself or built up this incredible compassion for them for them, the fact remained I was a vampire. And vampires drank blood .

I pushed my way through the early morning crowd of streey vendors setting up market stalls of vegetables, live animals and flowers and ragged men, women and children on their way to work in the local textile and iron work factories that were now spewing giant plumes of smoke over the city. The smoke and debris from these large plumes settled over London, blanketing it in a thick haze. I held my breath as I walked, even I was not immune to the choking effects of this thick layer of sludge from the start of the London's Industrial Revolution.

John kept a small apartment here amongst the lowest of the low classes. It afforded him a sense of ironic privacy. The buildings were close together, dingy with the grime of poverty. Dirty, malnourished children stood in the doorways of the buildings, a dead look in their eyes as they eyed me and my clothes for a mere moment before rushing out to thrust waving hands my way begging for coin. I didn't give them anything, not because I was cruel, but because I was kind. Any money they got from me would not buy them a loaf of bread, but would undoubtedly go straight to their mother or father and the purchase of ale. Ale to keep the feelings of despair of unstoppable poverty from overtaking their minds.

I found John's apartment and discovered that he was already here. I entered the small but tidy space. He was hunched over a ledger book. I sank into the nearest chair and let out a sigh. "I hate this city. It's like God himself has his back to it."

John didn't look up from his ledger, he was too busy making calculations. I wondered what he was doing.

"I'm a relatively wealthy man, Carlisle. But I'm always worried about the future." he sighed as he pushed away from the table. "I want to make sure I can provide Bess with the life she deserves for as long as our kind lives. Money doesn't last forever like we can you know."

I smiled. This was true. It did take quite a bit of money to keep ourselves accustomed to our forever lifestyle. "Investments John. Investments. If your money is properly invested, you have no reason to worry."

"I don't trust banks or men I don't know to control my money. I still think you are foolish for allowing that."

I laughed out loud now. "You know, once you are married to Bess, she won't allow your extracurricular job anymore. Why don't you think about finding a real trade John? Like I have?"

He looked at me with piercing eyes. "I haven't got your kind of compassion for humans. I have no desire to blend in with them."

"Yet, you have no problem stealing their money from them, is that right?" I met his glance.

"Don't judge me Carlisle Cullen. You know as well as I do, the people I..._ liberate _goods from are the worst scum of the scum. Bloodsucking politicians, excuse my pun. Crooked aristocrats. Lawless businessmen. I feel nothing stealing from these men because they felt the same way stealing from others."

"So you're playing God then? Or perhaps Robin Hood? But you aren't giving any of the spoils away, are you? Instead, the money is squirreled away, just yours." I lifted my eyebrow at him to raise my point.

"I don't plan to do this forever. Something else will fall into place. Maybe Bess and I can strike out for the American Colonies like you have? Make our mark there? I imagine there is all kinds of opportunities to be had there." He went back to scribbling in his ledger.

I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. I worried about my dear friend. He had always been a loose cannon, never giving much thought to the next day. If he planned to make Bess his wife and then changing her, he would have to start thinking about his future life.

His voice broke through my thoughts. "Right. I'm done here. Want to go see Bess with me? I would love for you to meet her." John turned in his chair and looked at me, one arm across the back of his chair.

I might as well go. What else was there to do in this godforsaken city?

I again ran, no more horses for me. I didn't run as fast as I could've have, John was behind me, his horse galloping at a steady but slow run. Outside the city, I opened my lungs and let the fresh air wash over me, filling my nose and lungs with the scent of the clean forest and rich earth.

We stole out of the darkness of the night, once again back in the courtyard of the Toads Wallop Inn. This time, Bess was waiting for us. Leaning out of her window, she waved as she saw us approach and then very carefully, she made her way down the lattice, falling into John's arms near the bottom. He placed a long kiss on her lips before he put he on the ground.

A new scent made me turn slightly and I caught sight of someone rushing out of view in the stables.

"John!" I hissed through clenched teeth. The spy had made me uneasy. "Someone is there in the stable."

Bess started to laugh and John and I both looked at her. We found nothing funny about this potential spy who had just witnessed her climb down from her bedroom window.

"That's just Tim, the stable boy. He won't be any trouble." Her black eyes danced in the dim light of moonlight. 'He has always had a slight crush on me, he thinks John will be the death of me. He threatens to tell my father but I just laugh at him."

I turned back to look at the stable. There was no sign of Tim now, but I still could smell him. I didn't like it, I felt we were being spied on.

"Bess, I want you to meet my good friend Carlisle Cullen. Cullen here has seen me through some pretty thick times and I have repaid that favor several times for him as well." John swept his hands my way and Bess nodded her head at me.

"I've heard John tell me quite a few of your adventures. I'm glad to meet the man who has saved his neck more than once." Her cheeks rounded as she smiled at me.

"It is indeed a pleasure to meet you as well. John was not lying for once when he described your beauty." I bent down and picked up her pale hand and kissed the back. A cardinal blush danced over her cheeks.

"One kiss, my darling sweetheart? I'm after a rather large prize tonight" he said as he swept her up in his arms. "I shall be back with the prize before morning light even reaches your beautiful eyes. But of course, should I run into any _problems_, have no fear, I will be back by nightfall. Hell itself couldn't keep me from you." He took her face between his hands and placed a delicate kiss on her forehead before letting a lingering kiss stay on her red, full lips.

I had sauntered off in the woods to give them some privacy. Well, as much privacy as my eyes and ears would allow.

"Where is your friends horse at?" Bess asked John, looking around.

"It's in the woods, Carlisle doesn't get along with animals much." John lied for me, covering the fact I had ran.

John got up on his horse and leaned down and placed a kiss on top of her head. Her black curls danced in the light wind. "I shall be back for you. And then we will leave. I promise you that my love."

My eyes shifted again as I caught the sight of Tim peering out of the stables. He had a look in his eyes of pure jealousy as he watched the interaction of Bess and John. This wasn't good. His look didn't feel right to me. It was a possessive look.

John leaned back in his saddle and caught his spurs in the side of the horse. The horse neighed under the feeling and kicked up dirt and rocks as it sped away from the Inn. I easily caught up with him.

"Did you see the stable boy? He was looking at you two in a very menacing way, John. Are not you worried he will tell her father?" I said as I ran along his horse.

"It doesn't matter, after tonight, it's all over. I will be back here before the sun rises. I am expecting the Duke of Albergton's carriage to pass through and I've been told it holds a very nice prize from his trip to Europe."

I sighed. So like John to be thinking of only the present. I separated myself from him, I going back to London, John, taking another course heading for the carriage of the Duke of Albergton.


	4. Redemption

The morning came and went and still no sign of John. The day passed into the the night and still no sign. I ran through the forest, picking up his scent along the highway and following it back to the Toads Wallop. A flurry of scents met my nose, blood being the strongest.

A large crowd had gathered round and a few soldiers stood off to the side talking amongst themselves. I picked up pieces of their conversation as my eyes swept the place for John.

From the many conversation going on, I could piece together what had happened. Someone had told the soldiers they knew the highwayman would be back for Bess. The soldiers had marched to the inn and burst through the Inn door. The held the innkeeper at bay while they drank his ale and tied Bess up. They planned to use her for bait. They had made her wait, tied and gagged to stand watch out through the window and had cruelly placed a rife so that it stood against her, the barrel up against her chest. Then, the soldiers had waited, getting drunk off the ale. They hadn't noticed that Bess had managed to free a finger, tearing through the rope so that it cut her fingers, to reach out to touch the trigger. While the soldiers laughed drunkenly amongst themselves, Bess went unnoticed as she kept a constant vigil out the window. At the very first sound of John's horse approaching, she had pulled the trigger. The rifle blast had scared his horse and it took off running back into the forest.

Bess had shot herself through the heart to warn the man she loved that the Inn was full of King George's Redcoats waiting for him to take him to be hanged. What Bess hadn't known was that those Redcoats would've been no match for John. The blast had made the soldiers rise out of their drunken stupor, but by the time they got out the door, John was gone. They had split up to go find him and hours later, those soldiers had not yet returned. I knew those soldiers, if they had caught up to John, would never be coming back.

I spotted the stable boy. He was lurking off to the side, a look of horror on his face. I knew who the informant had been. He was responsible for the death of Bess and he knew it. I thought about killing him for John, but I figured the hell he would go through for the rest of his life would be enough punishment.

I stole from the scene and began a race to pick up John's scent. It came to me very faintly at first, but as I grew closer, I could sense him and the scent of others on him. I knelt beside him.

"KILL ME CARLISLE!! I beseech you, if our friendship means anything to you, you will kill me now." The words tore from the broken man in front of me. He had fallen on his hands and knees. Completely broken. Blood stained his hands and clothes. I knew he had exacted revenge for Bess and her father. A loud, primal growl escaped from deep within him to fill the whole forest with its sound. Birds scattered from the trees, nervously calling out to each other to flee.

I didn't know what to say to him, how to comfort him. I had never experienced this sort of feeling before, of losing someone so dear to me. Could what I say to him make any difference now? His body was shaking violently with the dry tears of our kind, his hands beating into the ground, grabbing onto the earth and tearing it away it clumps. Almost as if he was trying to dig himself a hole. He tilted his head back and unleashed yet another loud cry, this time it surely rang out to the heavens. It echoed through the forest, reverberating through the trees and shaking the leaves as if a strong gust of wind had blown through. He cursed everything and nothing at once. Cursing God above and all mortal men below.

His eyes found mine, the wild crazy eyes of a mad man and he rushed at me, springing forward so fast I was taken off guard. He knocked me to the ground.

"Kill me. Kill me now. I swear if you don't kill me to put me out of my misery now, I will make you kill me out of self-defense and possibly kill us both." His crazed eyes showed me no recognition. The man I had known had been replaced by some monster intent on ending his life.

I pushed him off of me and he growled and struck out at me again. I darted away from him.

"Enough! This is madness John! Calm yourself!" I yelled but it did no good. He raced toward me again and this time I reached out and grabbed him and threw him on the ground. The ground below shook as he hit the earth. "Calm yourself man! Think of Bess! What would she say about all this?" I held him by the throat and looked into his crazed eyes. A quiet yell escaped as he tried to roll away from me. I let go of him and stepped back.

"She's gone Carlisle. I was such a fool." he sat up now, looking at the ground. "I cannot bring her back. I am too late."

"Yes you are. Although I doubt even if you had tried to change her, it wouldn't have worked my friend, there was simply too much damage done to her heart...for the venom to properly flow through her veins. I'm sorry."

We both were quiet for a long time. The birds returned and filled the forest with a quiet chirping and the leaves gently rustled under a slight breeze. I looked down at the broken man before me. Stained with the blood of the soldiers, dirty from our fight, he _looked_ breakable, not like an immortal vampire. This is what love had done to him.

"It was the stable boy wasn't it?" his sneering voice hissed from behind a clenched mouth. He quickly rose and began to run towards the Toads Wallop.

"John, stop this madness. I've seen the boy. He will be paying for this the rest of his life. Let that be his punishment, not an easy death at your hands."

John stopped and turned to me. "I won't make it an easy death. He will feel everything to the very end." The wild look was back in his eyes.

I shook my head. "His death won't bring Bess back. Let this day be a constant reminder for him, to torment him for many years. Even you can surely see the justice in that long sentence versus your shorter one. This longer one will be much more painful for him then anything you could do to him." Why I was even bothering to save this despicable human was out of my reach, but I knew his death would not satisfy John.

"You compassion for these miserable humans astounds me Carlisle." he glared at me.

"Our kind was once human, don't forget that John. We were imperfect creatures then and we are imperfect creatures now. Do not make a mistake you cannot take back. You've exacted your revenge on her real killers. Let this coward go." I gave my final defense for the stable boy. I left his fate with John. I would not interfere any more.

I parted ways that day with John and never again sought him out. What he had chosen to do after I left remained a mystery until one day in 1921 when I ran into him into him in Wisconsin on my way to work at the local hospital. We had a long talk and caught up with each other over the years. John had gone on to find another mate, a vampire named Grace. He was now a lawyer, who worked primarily with wronged clients. I was not going to bring up the last time we had seen each other. I didn't want to bring those perfectly clear vampire memories back. He had volunteered it on his own.

"You know, on that day, your words led to my eventual career path." he said as I raised an eyebrow at him. "I didn't go back for the poor boy. Your words saved him and _me_." We both rose from the table we were sitting at and shook hands.

"We shouldn't wait so long between visits." I said to him as I grabbed my overcoat and hat.

"True my old friend. But you will glad to know, my reputation is still intact." he joked as he walked out of the small restaurant. "It's all about fitting in with these humans. Even letting them live."

I once again parted ways with the Highwayman. My old friend. The one who had shown me that a deep love for another was possible. I placed my hat on my head and wondered if I too would ever be as lucky as he was to have found that true love. Suddenly aware that I was going to be late for my shift, I rushed to the hospital. Not even I could have known what awaited me there on that day. My love. Esme. Left behind as dead. But unlike John and Bess, I would be able to save her.


	5. The Highwayman End Notes

Here is the original poem that inspired this story. It's a visually beautiful poem and the tragedy laced throughout it makes it a sober read.

The Lorenna McKennit song version is in my profile. It's a very moving version.

The Highwayman

Alfred Noyles

The wind was a torrent of darkness upon the gusty trees,  
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,  
The road was a ribbon of moonlight looping the purple moor,  
And the highwayman came riding--  
Riding--riding--  
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn door.

He'd a French cocked hat on his forehead, and a bunch of lace at his chin;  
He'd a coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of fine doe-skin.  
They fitted with never a wrinkle; his boots were up to his thigh!  
And he rode with a jeweled twinkle--  
His rapier hilt a-twinkle--  
His pistol butts a-twinkle, under the jeweled sky.

Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard,  
He tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred,  
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there  
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter--  
Bess, the landlord's daughter--  
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

Dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked  
Where Tim, the hostler listened--his face was white and peaked--  
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like moldy hay,  
But he loved the landlord's daughter--  
The landlord's black-eyed daughter;  
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say:

"One kiss, my bonny sweetheart; I'm after a prize tonight,  
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light.  
Yet if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,  
Then look for me by moonlight,  
Watch for me by moonlight,  
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."

He stood upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand,  
But she loosened her hair in the casement! His face burnt like a brand  
As the sweet black waves of perfume came tumbling o'er his breast,  
Then he kissed its waves in the moonlight  
(O sweet black waves in the moonlight!),  
And he tugged at his reins in the moonlight, and galloped away to the west.

He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon.  
And out of the tawny sunset, before the rise of the moon,  
When the road was a gypsy's ribbon over the purple moor,  
The redcoat troops came marching--  
Marching--marching--  
King George's men came marching, up to the old inn-door.

They said no word to the landlord; they drank his ale instead,  
But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed.  
Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets by their side;  
There was Death at every window,  
And Hell at one dark window,  
For Bess could see, through her casement, the road that he would ride.

They had bound her up at attention, with many a sniggering jest!  
They had tied a rifle beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!  
"Now keep good watch!" and they kissed her. She heard the dead man say,  
"Look for me by moonlight,  
Watch for me by moonlight,  
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though Hell should bar the way."

She twisted her hands behind her, but all the knots held good!  
She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood!  
They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years,  
Till, on the stroke of midnight,  
Cold on the stroke of midnight,  
The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!

The tip of one finger touched it, she strove no more for the rest;  
Up, she stood up at attention, with the barrel beneath her breast.  
She would not risk their hearing, she would not strive again,  
For the road lay bare in the moonlight,  
Blank and bare in the moonlight,  
And the blood in her veins, in the moonlight, throbbed to her love's refrain.

Tlot tlot, tlot tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hooves, ringing clear;  
Tlot tlot, tlot tlot, in the distance! Were they deaf that they did not hear?  
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,  
The highwayman came riding--  
Riding--riding--  
The redcoats looked to their priming! She stood up straight and still.

Tlot tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot tlot, in the echoing night!  
Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light!  
Her eyes grew wide for a moment, she drew one last deep breath,  
Then her finger moved in the moonlight--  
Her musket shattered the moonlight--  
Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him--with her death.

He turned, he spurred to the West; he did not know who stood  
Bowed, with her head o'er the casement, drenched in her own red blood!  
Not till the dawn did he hear it, and his face grew grey to hear  
How Bess, the landlord's daughter,  
The landlord's black-eyed daughter,  
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.

Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,  
With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high!  
Blood-red were his spurs in the golden noon, wine-red was his velvet coat  
When they shot him down in the highway,  
Down like a dog in the highway,  
And he lay in his blood in the highway, with the bunch of lace at his throat.

_And still on a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,  
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,  
When the road is a gypsy's ribbon looping the purple moor,  
The highwayman comes riding--  
Riding--riding--  
The highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door._

_Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard,  
He taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred,  
He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there  
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter--  
Bess, the landlord's daughter--  
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair._


End file.
